Summer Girls
by ivedoneworse
Summary: “It’s a deal,” the girls declared. They decided to set goals for each other, and by the end of the summer, they promised that each of their dreams would be achieved. [NH JP BL]
1. Beautiful Girls

**Peyton Sawyer: **is finally going to spend time with her dad. To make sure it's a summer they won't forget, the pair rent a house in a small city in Wisconsin. But just when she thought her family was completely dysfunctional, it gets much worse. On top of all that, she has to deal with the rest of the crazy town and their inhabitants – alone.

**Brooke Davis: **wants to be famous. She takes a summer fashion internship in Paris with suitcases full of clothes, a friend by her side, and her held up high as she enters the life of the glitz and glam. Everything is practically perfect, that is until she realizes how catty the fashion industry can be, and you can't trust everybody. Especially a nosy roommate.

**Haley James: **is about to become Haley James Keller by the end of the summer. She can finally live the life of her dreams in the beautiful state of New York City with a successful fiancée, a booming career, and a polished lifestyle. The only thing that stands in the way of this fantasy is a stubborn husband – who hasn't given her a divorce in three years (_slightly based on Sweet Home Alabama_).

**A/N: Hope you like my story! The base is somewhat similar to Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, without the pants, but more so the fact of friends separating for the summer. Enjoy and please review!**

"Table for three please."

It was always table for three. It was always three for everything.

Well, not always, exactly.

It's been three for everything since middle school; seventh grade to be exact.

It was in seventh grade that Brooke Davis, Peyton Sawyer, and Haley James formed this most indestructible bond, one that seemed to survive through everything. It had experienced dead moms, rude boyfriends, failed classes, drunken nights, absent parents, evil cliques, and so much more.

The three seemed to share this sort of weird vibe with each other. It was like they knew when something was wrong with the other. They just had to look at one of them and immediately realize that something was different. Maybe for the good, maybe for the bad; but they just knew. They felt that exact vibe in seventh grade, third period. Brooke had almost fallen asleep in history class, and after rubbing her eyes, she realized she smeared her delicate eye makeup that she so carefully applied that morning. It was only reasonable to ask to be excused to the bathroom to fix it up with her Bourjois traveling kit. Across campus, Peyton had received a D on her math exam, also leaving for the bathroom in a fuss. In her pocket happened to be a packet of cigarettes, which she had discovered in her father's drawer last week. She needed something to distract her. Haley just needed to pee.

Within that tiny time span, all three girls entered the girls' bathroom on the lower floor next to the classroom 111. It was there were a moody Peyton Sawyer discovered a teary Brooke Davis, who had forgotten all her makeup and a stressed Haley James, who just wanted to be kind and listen to the poor brunette's story, even though she desperately needed to use the bathroom. Peyton had flicked out a cigarette to calm herself down, in which Haley James quickly objected, saying it was completely unhealthy to smoke cigars, even more unhealthy to start at such a young age.

"So?" The curly blonde inquired.

Haley then broke out into a long speech about cigars and tobacco, and which would possibly go on into other important factors, that is, if Brooke and Peyton didn't burst out laughing half way. Instead of steaming off, Haley laughed too. And that was the beginning of the Triple Threat, or so they called themselves.

The vibe thing they had going on really worked.

It was funny how close their friendship was, seeing that the three girls were as different as night and day. It really is important to stress how different these girls really are.

Peyton is the rebel. The artist. The deep thinker. In her view, the world is always against her. It's hard not to think so when her mother died at such a young age, only to learn she actually had a birth mother, who eventually died from breast cancer. To top it all off, her father works on shipping boats, leaving Peyton to have a very parentless upbringing. Maybe her dark music and moody art makes a little more sense now.

Brooke is the party girl, the pretty girl, and the wild girl. Looking at her, she seems to have it all from designer clothes to silky hair to her dimply smile… and even to her absent parents. They were sort of just there in the background, but never there for her cheerleading competitions or to take pictures of her before prom or to attend her short-lived gymnastics phase. This all spiraled down to many crazy nights that involved a lot of beer and a lot of boys. Pretty girl... pretty messed up.

Haley is the good girl. Sweet and shy and quiet and nice. Intelligent. Valedictorian. This was what every parent wanted their child to be like, and the James family had enough children to motivate to be the perfect child. Haley, being the youngest, finally achieved their dream, but she still wanted to be so much more. She strived to be like her friends, instead of the safe girl she was. So at age 18, she did something crazy.

She got married.

They may be as different as night and day, but both have either the stars or sun to brighten up their path of life. That and each other.

"Uh, table for three?" Brooke Davis repeated, tapping her fingers impatiently at the host's table.

"Apologies, miss. Right this way," the stuffy man said, leading the three young women to a booth near the window in a sweet café located in the busy state of New York.

"Do you have to be so impatient?" Haley James rolled her eyes.

"Well, do you have to be so… patient?"

"People should be."

"Well, I'm not people. I'm Brooke Davis!"

"Who can be a pain in the ass," Haley mumbled.

"Hey!"

"Okay, cat claws back in," Peyton Sawyer ordered, plopping down onto her chair. Brooke and Haley proceeded to make fake hissy noise at each other, just for Peyton's expense. "Okay, enough catfights, I want to hear the good news," the curly blonde stated, tossing her menu to the side.

Haley blushed slightly, taking Peyton's discarded menu and covering her face. The two girls gasped, knowing this was something big.

"Okay, close your eyes, and when I say three, open them. Brooke just do it! Okay. Peyton, I know you're eyes are open and – oh, come on. We're not five. Okay. One… Two… Three!"

"Oh."

"My."

"GOD!" Peyton and Brooke screamed in unison. There, perfectly placed on the second to the last finger on her left hand was possibly the most gorgeous engagement ring any of the three girls had ever seen.

"Chris – " Peyton began.

"Yes!" Haley squealed.

"At – " Brooke started.

"Yesterday!"

"In – "

"Central Park at sunset!"

Brooke and Peyton's jaw dropped, completely literally. "You are going to be Haley Keller." The petite blonde nodded in excitement. "To Chris Keller. Which People Magazine just declared music's new hot guitarist."

"Well, he's my hot guitarist now." The three girls broke into a fit of giggles, all gushing over the beautiful piece of rock.

"When's the wedding?!" Brooke gasped, lacing her fingers together.

"We want it by the end of the summer. I know it's soon, but it's going to be perfect. We already bought a new house together in Manhattan." They all sighed, the girlie thoughts of romance plastered all over their face.

"Um, excuse me? Your orders, ladies?"

A quick 45 minutes flew by, which the conversation just had to do with Haley's wedding wishes.

"Everything's going to be perfect. Just… one thing."

"What?" Peyton asked, stuffing a piece of bread into her mouth.

Haley bit her lip, taking in a deep sigh. "Nathan," she admitted reluctantly.

"What about him?" Brooke brushed off.

"There's some business I have to take care of with him."

"What business, exactly?" Peyton raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you know. Just divorce business."

"Divorce!!" The two girls shrieked.

"I thought you took care of that was years ago!" Brooke gasped.

"Not… really."

"Hales, you got married at 18. You're 21 now. It's been three years!" Peyton stated, her eyes narrowed with shock.

"I know, okay? That's why I'm going home for the summer. You know, to see my family and everyone… and get a divorce."

"You're going back to Tree Hill?" Brooke frowned. Haley nodded slowly. "Pff, good luck. I never liked that place."

"Brooke, you were a cheerleader. You practically cheered for it every day of your teenage life." Brooke shrugged and rolled her eyes.

"You were one two, Peyton Marie Sawyer."

"Do not use the PMS thing against me! Besides, you begged me to be one."

Brooke rolled her eyes once more and simply stuck out her tongue.

"Okay, so one down, two to go," Haley sighed. "Brooke? What's your news?"

"Okay, well, so last week I got my fashion design professor to pull a few strings here and there and… "

"And?!"

"And I got an internship with Chanel in Paris!" Brooke squealed cheerfully.

"No way!"

"Oh my God!"

Brooke gave a huge dimply smile, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"Brooke, that's incredible," Peyton grinned, shifting back in her seat.

"You're going to Paris, for the whole summer, to study fashion?"

"Mmhmm!"

"I'm officially jealous."

Brooke giggled, "I know!" Sighing, she tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear before leaning forward. "There is a catch though. There's going to be loads of interns. So, I'll have to do my best to stand out."

"Considering you being you, I don't think it will be that hard," Peyton grinned, amused.

Brooke shrugged and smiled simultaneously, her signature move. "Mouth is coming with me. He wants a vacation. Plus, he knows some guy who's also staying in Paris who we can bunk with."

"Who?" Haley inquired, taking a sip of her tea.

"Some guy named Lucas. Lucas Scott, I think."

Haley furrowed her brow. "Nathan's last name was Scott."

"Scott is a common name, Hales. Besides, I think we would know if Nathan Scott had a brother. Tree Hill is a pretty small town," Peyton figured, swirling her soup with her spoon.

"Speaking of you, P. Sawyer – "

"We weren't Brooke."

"Well, now we are. What is your big news, Goldilocks?"

Peyton broke out into a huge smile, pushing her soup gingerly aside. "Me and my dad are finally going to spend a whole summer together." Brooke and Haley's faces both suddenly became filled with sympathy and excitement.

"Hun, that's great!" Haley beamed. Brooke nodded anxiously in agreement. It was a well known fact that Peyton and her father never really had a stable relationship, and it was something Peyton always wanted.

"We're going to Wisconsin. He said we have some family there."

"Wisconsin?" Brooke raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, yeah, it's in one of those small, unknown towns. Middlebury is its name, to be exact. But, I think the smaller the town, the more time I can spend with my dad."

"That's really sweet, Peyton," Brooke commented, giving her a hopeful smile. "You deserve this. Definitely."

"Wow, this is all so exciting," Haley suddenly jumped. "Brooke is going to Paris. Peyton is finally spending time with her family. And I'm getting married!"

"And going to Tree Hill," Peyton added.

"I was purposely leaving that part out."

"Oh, Sorry."

"Yeah."

"I have an idea," Brooke chimed in. "Since we're all doing something this summer, let's set a goal for each other!" Her two friends stared curiously at her. "Just listen. It'll be fun! It's sort of like we'll all be with each other. Okay, maybe not, but I think it'll make our summer's even more interesting! I mean, isn't goal achieving always fun? But we can't refuse what each other says. And we have to do it by the end of the summer. I'll do one for Peyton, Peyton will do one for Haley, and Haley will do one for me!"

"And what is this brilliant goal you want me to do, Brooke?"

"I want you to fall in love."

"What?!"

"Come on P. Sawyer," Brooke spoke quickly. "You need it. As wonderful as it is that you're going to spend time with your family, I think the need of a boy toy for you is becoming quite serious."

"But – "

"You can't refuse it! It's against the rules."

"What rules?"

"My rules," Brooke grinned.

"Fine. Okay, I have a good one for Haley." Right then, the petite blonde slipped deeper into her seat, too nervous to hear what her friend had to say. "Get married."

Haley tilted her head, furrowing her brows. "I am getting married."

"I know, but things happen. I just want you to get married, no matter what. If I deserve to fall in love, you deserve a proper wedding."

"Okay. No problem. Now Brooke," Haley began, smirking. "I want you, little miss cheery, to give people chances."

"That's it?" Brooke blurted out.

"Three people to be exact. Three people who you don't like," Haley explained. Brooke smiled simply. "I think it's going to be a lot harder than you realize." The brunette just raised an eyebrow and shrugged in agreement.

"It's a deal," the girls declared, closing their two hour conversation.


	2. Not Ready To Make Nice

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews! So I decided to have each chapter dedicated to one character. Right now it's Peyton and so on and so on. Please, please review! And for all you Jeyton fans, there isn't much action in this chapter, but a lot of humor! Enjoy and review! **

"Good morning passengers, you are now arriving in Middlebury, Wisconsin. Weather is about 90 degrees with the sun shinning beautifully. We hope you enjoy you're stay here, and we hope you chose American Airlines again for your next vacation."

Peyton Sawyer reluctantly opened one eyelid, the blazing sun poking its way through. She groaned in mercy, begging for it to dim down. Even just a little bit. Taking in one more peek, she realized it was not backing down.

"Bitch," she mumbled under her breath, shifting her weight in her seat.

"What was that, hun?" came the soft voice next to her. Peyton finally gave in to the dreaded weather and fully opened her eyes. Glancing to the seat to her right, her father had an amused look on his face.

"The sun is too bright," she admitted sheepishly.

"As always in Middlebury."

"How many times have you actually been here before, dad?" Peyton inquired, getting out from her seat. Her father simply shrugged his shoulders in response. She quickly grabbed the small amount of carry ons the two brought; the pair were very light packers. Her father traveled a lot, so it was easy for him to distinguish what was needed and what wasn't. Peyton didn't have many valuable items, or none worth bringing. All she needed was a sketchbook, a couple of albums, and her ipod. Maybe clothes and underwear were a smart choice too, but Brooke had packed that for her the day before. The brunette insisted on packing "all the hot clothes in her wardrobe." Peyton began to think it was a good idea, now realizing how hot it was here in Middlebury. However, according to Brooke's philosophy, hotter clothes somehow equaled true love. Peyton snorted. Brooke wanted her to find true love.

Yeah, like that'll happen the day Brooke starts to wear underwear.

Suddenly, Peyton's heart fell. Just the thought of Brooke made her think of Haley and how much she missed her two friends. They were practically like sisters to her. How was she going to survive the whole summer away from them?

"Peyt, there's our last bag," Her dad's voice finally whipped her back to reality. She stared blankly at the revolving baggage claim. She would just have to figure out surviving without her best friends on her own, but at least she had her dad with her.

That sure as hell counted for something.

Ever since her mom died when she was nine, many things in Peyton's world fell apart. Her mother was her idol. Her best friend. Her hero. And then her life changed as quickly as a car can hit another car. Consequently, her father needed to find a way to earn more money for the two. Earning more money meant more work, which meant less time to spend with his daughter. However, he saw it as providing Peyton with an extravagant lifestyle, even if he wasn't there to experience it with her. However, at the time she was seventeen, another blow hit the poor teenager. A woman showed up, claiming to be her birth mother. Just when Peyton was finally able to breath the mother-daughter relationship once more, Ellie died.

And what she hoped to maybe have a normal family was ruined once more.

"You okay? You seem quiet." She glanced up, her father staring at her.

Peyton shook her head. "Just tired. I'm really psyched to spend time with my old man."

"Psyched?"

"You know, it means excited."

"Got it," he chuckled. "So what if I said, I'm so psyched to watch 60 Minutes?"

Peyton stared in shock. "No. Please. No." But Peyton actually didn't care. She would give anything to have her dad say that or any slang term she could think of. As long as he was with her, and not away at sea, she would give anything just to hear her father talk forever.

"I'm not really that old, am I?" He muttered, running his hand through his thinning hair.

"Of course not, Dad," Peyton beamed, kissing her father happily on the cheek. "You don't look a day over 25."

"Much better," he laughed loudly, throwing an arm around his daughter. "If you would say that more often, then I would give you your surprise sooner."

Peyton bounced up and down anxiously, squealing in excitement. She felt too much like Brooke at that moment, but she didn't care. As long as it was her and her dad, she'd never care.

"Turn around." Peyton followed, briskly shifting her weight to the opposite side. Narrowing her eyes, all she saw were crowds of people. She tried focusing more, but she couldn't spot what this "surprise" was. There were just people, some sitting, some walking, some waiting, and some giving directions. Everything normal at an airport. Sure, that one lady was sort of staring somewhat at Peyton and her father, but she shrugged it off. Maybe there was someone behind her. Or a booger in her nose.

"Dad, I don't - "

"Larry! Over here!" She turned back around, only to see the lady who was staring earlier waving her hand viciously back and forth. Peyton raised an eyebrow before being dragged across the airport by her father, nearly dropping all of their luggage. What the hell is -

"Larry, is this her?" He nodded proudly at her, placing a hand on Peyton's shoulder. She stared at her dad, then at the lady, then at her dad, then at her, then, once again, back at her dad. "Oh, sweetheart, my name is Nicole."

She quickly stopped to urge to say "so?" Instead, she opted for the "I'm Peyton" saying.

"Oh, I know. You're father has told me all about you."

"Oh. Um, really?"

"Yes! Oh, I'm so excited to meet you!"

"Um, I'm sorry," Peyton began, squinting her green eyes. "Who are you, exactly?"

Nicole glanced at Larry, her expression changed into something worrisome. Her father leaned in towards Peyton slowly, putting an arm around Nicole. "Well, you see, about eight months ago I came here to Middlebury on a job. But something happened to the ship I was on, so the crew and I were stranded here for two weeks. So I rented an old house for the time being to live in, and right next door was this little lady right here," Larry gestured towards Nicole who was blushing slightly. "And after the first week, we started dating. Honey, I never told you this, but we've been dating ever since. And right before I came to you for this trip, I.." he trailed off quietly, staring at the lady next to him. "I asked her to marry me."

Just then, Peyton dropped all the luggage she was carrying.

And she thought her life couldn't get any more complicated.

---------------------------------

She wasn't ugly. But she wasn't drop dead gorgeous. But she wasn't ugly.

Peyton had come to accept this on their ride "home" to Middlebury.

Nicole was actually a pretty girl. She had long, raven black hair that was cleanly cut. Her face was on the pale side with a couple of faded freckles on the bride of her nose. Her eyes were bright though, in a turquoise-blue kind of way. They sparkled a lot, Peyton noted; all the time. Even if she was just looking at something. They sparkled right now, for instance, as she was describing something about the wedding to Peyton She nodded along absentmindedly, not focusing on anything that Nicole was saying. She was trying to find something – just something wrong with her. What was she, like in her late 30s? Her dad was in his late 40s! It was disgusting!

Okay, maybe it wasn't disgusting.

It was better than her dad marrying some dumb 20 year old bimbo who just wanted money, which was completely crazy since the Sawer family just sailed on average in the status scale.

"What do you think, Peyton?" Nicole stared at her anxiously, her eyes wide. Her dad glanced at her encouragingly as he made a random right turn into a new neighborhood.

"Sure," she added quickly. "That's fine."

And just like that, Nicole's eyes sparkled with even more excitement as she spoke on and on about the color pink. Peyton narrowed her eyes and tilted her head slightly. Nicole looked like she was dressed for church. She had on a clean, floral skirt and a pink t-shirt. Her dad wore khaki shorts and a blue button-up.

It looked like they stepped out of a J. Crew catalog.

Peyton looked down at herself. She was in incidentally ripped jeans and an old black tank top.

It looked like she stepped out of an orphanage.

"We're here," her dad finally stated, pulling into a long driveway. Peyton stared before her. The house was quaint. White, with a blue roof, fancy wood fence, wrapped in green vines. Standard. Simple. The perfect family house.

Peyton gagged.

---------------------------------

The three of them were sitting down, Nicole and Larry on one side, Peyton on the other. It was confrontation. An inquisition. Whatever it was, Peyton deemed it deadly.

"We met eight months ago. The crew and I, well, we landed on Middlebury for a docking, but something happened to our ship. We were stranded here for two weeks. I rented this house here with a pal for the time being. That same day, I met this lovely lady right here, who happened to live next door." Peyton raised her eyebrows, staring at the pair.

"You mean, the house, right next to us, is where you live?"

Nicole nodded. "After the first week, your dad and I just clicked. Ever since then we've been contacting and visiting each other. Finding any way to see each other. And now, were getting married."

Peyton wanted to scream. She wanted to take that fancy red vase next to her and aim it right at Nicole's head. Or her father's head. Or both. She wanted to make a huge scene and stomp right out the door. Her father hardly visited her a year, maybe only a handful of times. But every time he had a chance to visit her, or just say hi, he spent it with Nicole. _Nicole! _

Peyton desperately tried to stop the urge to reach for the vase.

---------------------------------

"Peyton, sweetheart, Peyton. Honey, are you awake?"

'Obviously not,' Peyton thought harshly. The cream colored covers practically covered every inch of her body, and her head was placed face down on the fluffy pillows. However, she just made a small smile and mumbled groggily, "Now I am," instead.

"Your father and I are going to run errands out of town for the wedding. Would you like to come with us?"

Peyton stared at her. Was she really going to ask that question? "No," she blurted out accidentally.

"Oh, okay then," Nicole shifted back, a bit surprised. "Well, we'll be home around five. Maybe we can have dinner together."

"What time is it?" Peyton averted the question. brushing a mess of curls away from her face.

"7:45."

"Are you serious?" Peyton practically groaned. Sure, she was being a major witch, but it was too early for her too care.

"Is she awake, dear?" her father's voice echoed from the next room. Nicole gave her a quick smile before excusing herself out of the room. There is no reason Peyton should feel terrible. Sure, Nicole hasn't been anyway rude to her since she arrived. But she stole her dad! Peyton deserved to have a sour attitude. For now, that is.

---------------------------------

After another sweet hour of sleep, Peyton spent the first 10 official minutes in Middlebury walking around the neighborhood. During her time spent, she saw two families, two couples, four bikers, and five joggers. It seemed like the west coast version of Tree Hill. Cozy and safe that had that sort of community feeling. It looked like a simple town. Many of the houses looked identical with the same perfectly mowed lawns with a worn out tire swing out back. It all looked traditional, almost like she was looking into a movie set of some kiddy film about a little boy and his heroic dog.

Quickening her pace, Peyton finally reached downtown Middlebury, its quaintness taken into a new level. Each store had the word "antique" or some common synonym somewhere on the front, either on the glass window or headline. Antique furniture, vintage clothing, old-fashioned electronics. Peyton raised her eyebrows at a nearby store. It did not have any antique word or anything so similar but a simple board that said "Deaf Jeff's Music." She smirked, making her way into the tiny shop.

It was, like the rest of the town, simple. All the CDs and albums were stacked neatly along the walls in order of genre. The walls were white with no posters plastered on anywhere, and the resk up front was neat with just a register and a notepad. Reaching for an old Led Zeppelin album, Peyton proceeded to accidentally knock over a whole column of rap CDs.

"Oh my God," Peyton gasped, bending down towards the mess. "I am so sorry." Reaching for the cluster of music, she glanced up at the owner, who was leaning against his stool reading some John Steinbeck book. "I'm really sorry... I-I didn't mean to." The man wasn't responding, just focusing on the book. "Hello?" she said louder, placing the CDs back on the rack. "Look, I'm sorry but I fixed it. Hello?" She tapped the man's shoulder curiously, getting impatient. Abruptly, the man turned around, staring at her in complete surprise. Slowly, he let out a knowing smile, and pointed to his ear. So Deaf Jeff really was deaf.

"Oh my God," she mumbled in embarrassment, staring blankly at the hearing aid. "I mean, OH MY GOD. IM SO SORRY," Peyton spoke louder. Then it dawned on her. Speaking louder wasn't going to help. The man laughed, reaching for the notepad. He quickly scribbled a few words down, then handed it gently towards Peyton.

_i It's okay. I can read lips. _

Peyton let out a small laugh. "Cool, I wish I could." He laughed in response, gesturing her around the store.

"I think I'll come back later. I'm new, and I'm just checking the town out." He nodded understandingly, tossing the piece of note paper into a garbage can. "I'm Peyton, by the way." The man pointed towards the board outside the store, reading 'Deaf Jeff's Music.' "Bye Jeff," Peyton grinned, exiting the music store. So she made her first friend in Middlebury. Sure, it would be a little awkward talking to him, but one friend is better than none.

Suddenly, the sound of a heated dispute disrupted Peyton's thoughts.

"I just don't understand what the big deal is Vern," a pudgy little lady commented loudly from across the street. She was standing next to an equally pudgy man who was balding greatly.

"The big deal, Myrna? The big deal is that we have been vandalized!" the man named Vern shouted with frustration.

"I think it's quite artistic."

"It says "Skills was here" on our main sidewalk! How is that artistic!"

"Well, maybe some teenagers got bored last night and started to decorating the town a little. I don't know, Vern. If you ask me, this town could use a little spicing up."

"Well, I didn't ask you," the man turned around, motioning towards a young women nearby. "Sarah, come over here." Peyton switched her view towards the resident name Sarah. The women was probably in her mid-20s, and she looked almost exactly like Keira Knightley, except for one thing.

She was the most die-hard hippie Peyton had ever seen in her life.

"Yeah, Vern?" Sarah asked, glancing towards the arguing pair.

"Look at this! Isn't this the most hideous thing!"

Sarah stared at it for awhile, tucking her golden butt-length hair behind her ear. "Oh, how could you say that, Vern?" This seemed to upset him even more. His face grew so red, he looked like he was about to exploded any moment. Peyton took a quick step back, just in case. "I mean, obviously this person is trying to express something! Oh, you know what would be groovy? If everyone in town wrote their name on this sidewalk. It's like, we're showing the world what it's like to unite under one community!"

"That was beautiful," a new voice spoke up. Peyton glanced at her left, now seeing the most buff and tallest man in her life. His voice was strangely almost exactly like Arnold Schwarzenegger's and half of his face was shielded by a huge pair of sunglasses. "I agree with Sunflower."

"Sunflower?" Vern rolled his eyes. "Her name is Sarah. Not Sunflower."

"Everyone calls me Sunflower except for you, Vern."

So this town had a deaf music store owner, a pair of loud squabblers, a hippie name Sunflower, and an Arnold Schwarzenegger wannabe.

Peyton let out a loud snort.

"And who just might you be?" Vern stared straight at her. The whole group shifted their gaze towards Peyton. She suddenly realized she had not said one word during this whole conversation. Now all pairs of eyes were on her, and she was at a lost of words.

"Um, uh, I'm new in town."

"Well, obviously, dear," Myrna commented. "What's your name?"

"Peyton," she said quickly, taking a small step forward.

"I always thought that was a boy's name," the Arnold Schwarzenegger man said.

"Arnie, girls can have boys names and boys can have girls names. It shows were all united." Arnie? Like, short for Arnold? This town was getting crazier and crazier.

"Are you Arnold Schwarzenegger?" she blurted out, staring at the man. The whole group burst out laughing. "I'll take that as a no," she decided quietly.

"What's your last name, Peyton?" Sunflower Sarah asked.

"Sawyer. My dad's getting married to Nicole, uh..." It silently dawned on her that she didn't even know Nicole's last name.

"Nicole? Is your dad Larry Sawyer?" Myrna asked anxiously.

Peyton nodded. Before saying anything, three more figures entered the group. "Yo, dawgs, whats up?" came the voice of a tall, dark-skinned young man. "Oh look, my stuff is still on the sidewalk."

"Yes, it is Mr. Taylor," Vern frowned at him. "This is a violation of our town law!"

"Aw, come on Vern. It washes off. All you got to do is pour water on it. I got washable spray paint," the guy laughed.

"I think it's very nice, Skills," Myrna commented,

"Thanks." At that moment, he turned around, coming face to face with Peyton. "Who's the skinny honey?"

"Peyton," Sunflower quipped. "Isn't she darling?"

"She's Nicole's soon to be daughter-in-law. Larry's daughter."

Skills and his two other friends grinned. "Yo, girl, I'm Skills. This is Fergie and Junk." He motioned towards the two who nodded at her.

"I'd prefer to call them what they're parents named them, but they seem to like these little nicknames," Vern rolled his eyes.

"I like it. It's expressive," Peyton grinned, hoping to earn brownie points from Sunflower Sarah.

"I like this girl," Sunflower decided, putting an arm around her.

"You like who?" a new voice spoke up.

'More people?' Peyton raised an eyebrow. Turning around, she saw a new guy come up, his eyes also shaded by some sunglasses. Another Arnold impersonator, really?

"Thanks, Arnie, for the shades. They're really good," the new guy handed them back to him. They were fancy looking, with red outlining. "Nice quality." His now unshaded brown eyes darted towards Peyton, their eyes meeting. "This who you like Sun?"

"She's artsy," Sarah grinned. "She'll fit right in."

"It's Nicole's almost daughter-in-law."

"I'm Peyton," she stated quickly.

"Jake," he nodded. Glancing backwards, Peyton noticed Jeff coming out of his store. Giving a small wave and a "hi," Jake stared at her curiously.

"What?"

"He's deaf."

"I know that," she said quickly, in the need to defend herself.

"Okay."

End of conversation.

Abruptly, everyone was filled with uncomfortable silence, and Peyton stared blankly at the residents of Middlebury. She had a feeling this was going to be a strange summer. Then slowly, one by one, they started leaving. Vern had departed for a hose to wash off the spray paint with Sunflower flowing him, arguing in disapproval. Arnie left with Junk and Fergie as the trio headed towards a nearby basketball court. Myrna strolled in the pathway towards the town's houses, and Jeff returned to his store. Peyton was left all alone with... what's his name? Jake? Sure, Jake.

"I'm guessing you're freaked out," he spoke suddenly, scratching the back of his head.

Peyton laughed. "Just a bit."

"Welcome to Middlebury." Peyton had reasonably decided that Middlebury wasn't as simple and plain as she thought.


	3. Stand Still, Look Pretty

**A/N: Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews! Well, here is chapter three. I know I've been updating on a quick regular basis, but I'm just really in love with this story! Brucas fans, enjoy! And please review!**

Brooke Davis stared blankly at what laid before her. She was in Paris. _Paris!_ The city of romance and glamor and fashion and hope. The city where a certain dimply brunette had come to believe that all her dreams would come true right there. She'd become famous at the fashionable Avenue Montaigne, reach a new level of intelligence at the Louvre, find love at Champs-Elysees, be at peace at Notre Dame de Paris, and conquer the world by the time she reached the Eiffel Tower. It was Paris, and Brooke was going to spend practically the entire summer there to study one of the things she loved most in the world.

Fashion.

So why if she was going to live out such a spectacular dream, she had to stay at such a grungy little apartment?

"Um, Mouth?" Brooke began, staring at a room that looked to be about as big as her bedroom back home. "I thought you said that we were staying in an apartment?"

Marvin McFadden, who had been trying to avoid a spider from crawling up his foot, glanced casually back at her. "This _is_ an apartment, Brooke."

"No, Mouth, _this_ isn't an apartment," she muttered, shaking her head. "This is a cabinet."

"I think it's fine."

"You also think Backstreet Boys is still cool."

"Okay, so maybe it's not the best place."

"You think?" Brooke sighed, throwing a couple of her suitcases onto a bed. No, it was actually more of a cot than a bed.

"Well, look, there's a beautiful view!" Mouth beamed, always on the positive side. "See, you can kind of see the Eiffel Tower. Well, you have to look past the brick wall, but still. It's historical."

"This place is historic alright," Brooke muttered, glancing around the dirty room.

"Brooke, come on. Just look on the bright side. You're here on an internship to study fashion for Chanel! This all can't be that bad."

Brooke frowned guilty. She was being a sore loser.

Mouth – 1. Brooke – 0.

"You're right, sorry. I'm being a total party pooper. I'll stop, promise," she raised her right hand efficiently, putting on one of the best pouts that anybody, whether in Paris or New York, had ever seen.

Mouth laughed easily, strolling over towards one of the cots near the window. "Called it!" he exclaimed, dumping his only suitcase. Brooke jumped onto the one she had already tossed the first handful of her luggage on. It was more comfortable than it looked, she had to admit, but she was comparing it to how comfortable a piece of cardboard would be.

So maybe it wasn't going to be as glamorous as she had originally planned, but it would do for the time being. By time being, Brooke thought maybe for the first couple of weeks or so. Her plan was to make friends at her internship, hopefully some with high places. Designers, specifically. It would only be a matter of time until her and Mouth would live in the life of luxury that she believed they deserved. Brooke Davis, of course, was used to the life of luxury. Cot beds just won't do it for her.

"You're on my bed, pretty girl."

The soft voice disrupted the brunette's trail of thoughts as she whipped her head around in search of its source. There, right in front of her, was what Brooke deemed to be number one on her "Hottest Boys in Paris" list. And the fact that he called her pretty assured him that spot as number one. He was tall, blond, and had incredible blue eyes that reflected nicely against his tan skin. Brooke smiled. So, maybe living here would not be as bad as she thought.

"Maybe we can share," she bit her bottom lip, her green eyes flickering dangerously.

"Maybe so, but what about poor Mouth here?" the guy grinned, high-fiving Mouth. Brooke glanced back at her friend, who, at the moment, she had forgotten even existed.

Mouth – 2. Brooke – 0.

Paris Brooke was a bitch.

"Hey Luke. Thanks for this," Mouth commented, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I owe you."

"Don't mention. Call it payback for that favor you did for me a couple of years ago."

"And you can do me a little favor by telling me your name, gorgeous," Brooke said slyly, walking towards the new guy. Being in flirty mode for her was like being in game mode for everyone else.

"Lucas Scott," he said simply, completely calm and steady. Brooke raised an eyebrow. She'd never had to step up her game before.

"I'm the fantastic five B's. Bold, Beautiful, Bright, Brave, and most importantly, Brooke."

Lucas laughed in a sort of soothing way. She decided right then she liked the way he laughed. It was somewhat comforting in a weird way. But... he was laughing a bit too much. A little too hard for her liking. Her little skit wasn't _that _funny. Then, it dawned on her. Lucas Scott was laughing _at_ her!

"Are you laughing at me?" Brooke furrowed her brow, placing her hands directly onto her hips.

Lucas just smirked, not using any effort to contain his laughter. "I've heard a lot about you Brooke Davis."

"It's Brooke Da-vis," she stated firmly, hearing him pronounce it Dav-is. It was one thing to laugh at her, but mispronouncing her family name was just shit. "And what have you heard?" she inquired sharply, throwing daggers at Mouth.

"Woah, calm down. No need to bring out the fangs," Lucas laughed even harder. "Just that you are a fashion designer, and you know. That you're into that kind of stuff."

"What stuff?" she stated sharply, her words practically dripping with venom. Someone's mad.

"You know. Partying, makeup, guys. The glitz and the glam."

"Do you have a problem with that?" Brooke spat. Okay, maybe she was being too harsh, but she was standing up for herself! So what if she'd done all those things. What was so wrong with that? Brooke had just lived a little!

"Nothing. It's just not my type."

"Well, Lucas Scott," she took a step forward, staring straight into his bright blue eyes. "I could care less what you're type is."

"Brooke, are you okay?" Mouth pipped in quickly, his tone concerned.

"Just peachy."

"Look, I didn't mean to offend you or anything," Lucas took a step back, his laughter dead. "I was just - "

"Just judging me," Brooke finished for him, her expression more hurt. It wouldn't be the first time someone had done this to her. Back in Tree Hill, she was the head cheerleader. The most popular girl in school. The most stupid girl in school. The one that every girl wanted to be and who every guy wanted to be with. She had the perfect looks, style, friends, and life. She was Student Body President just for the hell of it, and she was Homecoming and Prom Queen. She had a ton of boyfriends and attended all the biggest parties. She had hardly any parental supervision, leaving her to do what ever she pleased.

And Brooke Davis was sick of it.

That life was perfect, just not perfect for her. What she wanted was to become smart. To learn things and become successful for her fashion designs and maybe to find love. She wanted to find herself, and what better way to find herself was in Paris.

She just needed someone to give her chance.

Chance.

According to Haley, she had to give three people three chances. And she sure as hell won't be granting that to Lucas Scott.

Before she knew it, she was out of that dowdy apartment in a flash, her eyes scanning the beautiful city before her. Brooke had changed her mind once more; staying in that tiny living space was going to be fucking torture.

---------------------------------

"Non, non, non! It is not, how you say, in anyway good. It is horrible!" Clemence Maxine exclaimed furiously, almost throwing her coffee aside. Oh wait – she just did.

"You, intern! Get me a cup of coffee, s'il vous plait!" Brooke's eyes widened as she quickly left the stuffy room for the coffee machine. Okay, so maybe getting coffee wasn't exactly what she had in mind as her first day on the job, but it was better than being thrust aside and becoming ignored wallpaper. Brooke would not stand for that.

Glancing around the design studio, she realized how much potential it had to actually be considered cute and fashionable. It probably was, minus the disaster of paper flying everywhere, styrofoam cups abandoned on the floor, and the fact that the building was way too overcrowded. They had to be breaking some fire law.

It was only 2:23 in the afternoon, and she had already fetched her 9th cup of coffee for the same woman – Clemence Maxine. She was the boss. The main honcho. Her attitude was somewhat like Meryl Streep in Devil Wears Prada, but definitely 10 times less scary. Clemence wasn't that horrid, just a little harsh. Brooke had spent the whole morning (which she had to be there by six) doing her best to stand out. She had seen many of her desperate peers making fools of themselves, all reducing to tears as early as seven o' clock. Brooke, however, stood her ground, refusing to act so needy. She preferred acting like herself. She was lovable enough!

However, being Brooke Davis to Clemence Maxine was only good enough to fetch her coffee.

'Well,' Brooke thought to herself as she poured the steaming pot into Mrs. Maxine's fancy cup, 'Brad Pitt started out as a driver for strippers. And he's a totally DILF now.'

"Coffee girl?" a girl popped beside her, shoving her own cup in front of Brooke's face. She peeked sideways, looking for the source of such a bored voice. There stood a young woman, perhaps Brooke's age, with an expected look on her face.

"And, who are you?" she asked cautiously, putting Mrs. Maxine's coffee aside. This girl seemed somewhat familiar. Probably some bitchy intern pretending to be a designer.

"Rachel Gatina. Model," the tall girl spoke proudly in a sort of "duh" tone, tossing her shiny red hair behind her shoulder. Brooke could vaguely remembered her on the cover of Vogue a couple of months ago. She, however, tried to keep a blasé face, moving away from the coffee machine.

"Right," she said simply, her voice laced with boredom.

"Brooke Davis," Rachel concluded, leaning against the counter top.

"You know me?" she accidentally blurted out. Smooth. Real smooth.

"I'm close with Clemence. She was talking about the decent interns during lunch," Rachel stated, finally pouring herself her own cup of coffee. Broke broke out into a huge smile. She was doing good. She was totally going to prove herself! "And you weren't one of them," Rachel added with a bittersweet smile. Brooke's jaw almost dropped.

Abruptly, she caught herself and made another all knowing smile. It wasn't Rachel who she saw on the cover of Vogue. It was Lindsay Lohan.

"You little liar. I saw you in the intern room this morning."

Rachel smirked, extremely amused. "I was there to spy for Clemence."

Brooke nodded sympathetically. "Oh, of course you were. Then you two had a tea party to discuss all about me, isn't that right?" Brooke rolled her eyes, letting out a sour laugh before she left for the direction of Clemence Maxine. That Rachel girl was so pathetic; it made Brooke feel great about herself.

"About time!" Clemence shrieked as Brooke entered the war area. Brooke sweetly said her apologies as the cup of coffee was seized out of her hands. Not long after, Rachel Gatina a.k.a. the lying "model" bitch entered the room. "Ah, there you are Rachel. Where are the samples you are wearing for next week's show? Ah, yes. Merci." Brooke smiled smugly at Rachel, folding her fingers gingerly together. Wait – what? Samples _she's_ going to be wearing? "Oh, interns. As you should all know, this is Rachel Gatina. The supermodel. She'll be, how you say, hanging around here a lot. Get used to this beautiful face."

Brooke could have almost died. And she nearly did when Rachel threw her the same smug look that she had given earlier. Rachel the lying "model" bitch was now just Rachel a.k.a. the model bitch.

Damn. She really should start using her three chances.

---------------------------------

"My life is dunzo," Brooke groaned, throwing herself down onto her bumpy cot.

Mouth sat patiently on his bed across from her, his legs folded Indian style. "It can't be that bad," he encouraged.

She groaned once more, sprawling her body out, her head faced down. "No, actually, it is all bad," she mumbled into her pillow.

Mouth frowned. "Okay, so maybe you insulted your boss's favorite model who, coincidentally, she's good friends with. It's only been the first week. There's time to push things around."

Brooke sprang up almost instantly. "No, there isn't! This whole internship thing sucks! I'm no longer the coffee-getter girl, just the stand in the background girl! I just stand there, all day, trying to look as cheery and as interested as I can be. But there's nothing interesting about looking at the back of people's heads! Being a background girl is the worst thing you can be Mouth! To not be noticed!"

"Brooke, you've always been noticed."

"Apparently, not in Paris," she muttered grumpily, landing back face first into her pillow. It was true. For the earlier that week, her position of fetching the coffee for Clemence Maxine was a role of a lifetime. Unfortunately, being a bitch was never a good characteristic of Brooke's. She just had to open that big trap of hers, and her role of being Mrs. Maxine's coffee girl diminished to being one of those people in the back of the studio.

Mouth – 2. Brooke – -100.

A soft click sound sounded across the tiny apartment as a new member entered the room. Brooke, however, didn't bother looking up. It was just him. "Background girl, still?" Lucas asked softly, gently tossing his basketball onto the floor.

She groaned loudly into her pillow, a sign of a tantrum coming on. Sure, Brooke had to agree that Lucas was definitely on her list of "The Top 10 Most Drool Worthy Boys Ever," but the fact that he's Lucas Scott put him at the low number 10. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had incredible eyes and an amazing body. But the fact of the matter was Lucas Scott was the most annoying and nosy person Brooke had ever met in her life.

First of, he was_ always_ there! Well, sure he lived with her, but did he always have to be there when _she_ was there? Seriously! It was a total invasion of the personal bubble. Doesn't he have a job or something? Friends? Family? What was with this guy's story anyways? Brooke was certain he wasn't even born in France, considering that he had no sense of an accent at all. However, after the first couple of days, she had concluded that he was just a drifter. Like those people who take on different jobs just to make ends meet, and once their bored, they move onto a new town. Brooke just prayed he was close to moving.

Second of all, he always carried that stupid basketball around with him. It was dirty, too, like it had been used forever. She had once seen it up close when she was fishing around for her favorite pair of jeans, and it look grimier than she thought it was. She also had noticed a small trace of writing that she had discovered to say "From: Keith." Who was this Keith? His lover? Lucas was probably was gay, she figured, since he seemed to have no sexual feelings at all towards Brooke. And that never happens.

Lastly, he was just so... broody! He squinted a lot. And he read too much. And he was always talking about random things to her, like about breakfast meals and good action films. Stupid stuff like that. So, maybe it was kind of cute in a totally twisted way, but he just liked to think and talk to much for Brooke's taste.

"I'm going to the restaurant across the street. Maybe you should come," Mouth suggested, heading towards the door.

Brooke sighed, picking herself up from the bed. "I think I'm going to wallow here on my ass in misery instead." Mouth shrugged his shoulders, opening the rusty door. "Thanks, though."

"Maybe you should talk to Rachel," came Lucas's voice from the bathroom.

Brooke rolled her eyes. "Yeah, so I could pull a bitch again and get fired?"

"No, so you can apologized," he suggested.

"I think it's too late for me to do that."

"It's never to late to say you're sorry."

"Oh, really?" Brooke challenged, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, what if you're mother was on her deathbed, and the two of you had been feuding for like the last ten years. Like, a big feud. Mutual hatred."

"Can someone really hate their mom that badly?" Lucas interjected.

"In my story they can."

"Proceed."

"So, it's the minute of her death and all of a sudden, you finally rush to the hospital to say you're sorry. Is she really going to forgive you in that last minute of her death with all that pain? What's the point anyways?"

"The point Brooke," Lucas began, coming out of the bathroom. "Is that she's going to die happily knowing that her son still loves her, no matter what."

"How does he know that?" Brooke asked softly.

"He'll just know," Lucas shrugged, walking towards his basketball. "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love an be loved in return." Brooke sat there quietly, still and silent. Lucas was smart, she had to admit, and it was the rare moments like these that she realized that maybe, just maybe she liked hearing him talk so much.

"Wait!" Brooke objected. "You got that from Moulin Rouge!"

"You weren't suppose to know that," he grinned. The moment was gone. "You left this in the bathroom, by the way." He tossed over an old looking ring with a gigantic dark gem stone. Brooke caught it easily with two hands, gingerly putting on her middle finger.

"It's a mood ring," she informed him, eyeing it with care.

"But it's been black this whole time."

"Yeah, because when I'm around you, you put me in a bad mood," she teased, sticking out her tongue. Lucas rolled his eyes in response, stifling his smile.

"My best friends in the whole world gave it to me. It was for my 14th birthday. My parents said they wouldn't be able to come home because there was a show in California they just had to attended for some stupid reason or another. So Peyton and Haley gathered up all their money and bought me a bunch of little things to cheer me up. They're not rich, but they're not poor. It was a big deal for them. This was one of the things they got me, and we never really knew what each color meant what, so we just kind of made them up," Brooke let out a laugh. "Haley wanted to right it down, being the Tutor Girl she is. Peyton painted the color code on her wall instead. She's kind of artsy like that." Abruptly, she stopped, snapping her head hurriedly towards Lucas who, to her surprise, was listening intently. "I'm sorry," she gasped, lying back down on her bed. "I didn't mean to say any of that."

Lucas shook his head. "You've got good friends," he admitted, fiddling with the basketball. "Are they hot?"

Brooke roll her eyes and smiled genuinely. "They're the best." She paused silently, her mind working. "Why do you live here?" she asked suddenly, staring him straight in the eye. She never planned on asking him that question; it just came out.

This seemed to tick him off. "I don't ask you about your past. I'd like it if you didn't ask about mine."

Brooke raised her eyebrows. Fair enough. "Sorry. Can I just ask one more question?" she pleaded.

Lucas sighed. "You're just naturally curious, aren't you?"

"Who's Keith?" she asked innocently.

Lucas frowned. "What makes you ask that?"

"On you basketball. It says 'From: Keith.' Who is he?"

Lucas looked quietly at her, as if he was debating what was the proper thing to say. "He's my dad," he answered finally.

"Oh."

"Want to play basketball?" he asked suddenly, opening the door. Another moment, gone. However, Brooke sighed deeply, giving in this time. Why not wallow and play basketball at the same time? Sure, she sucked ass at that game, but at least she would have done one productive thing in Paris.

And besides, she gave her first chance of the summer. Giving Lucas the chance not to be such an irritating freak.

---------------------------------

"You suck at this game," he grinned, chuckling at her. Again. Note to self: Never waste chances on Lucas Scott..

"Oh, no shit sherlock," Brooke rolled her eyes, trying to reach for the ball.

"Then why did you want to play?" Lucas asked. "Just admit. You just wanted to hang out with me because you like me."

Brooke's eyes widened in shock. "Are you kidding me?" she snorted.

"You think I'm sexy."

"You're the one that suggested it in the first place. You think I'm hot."

"That might be true," Lucas grinned, making another basket.

Brooke giggled in triumph, throwing her hands in the air. "You think I'm so hot, don't you!" But before the poor boy could answer, a certain redhead abruptly appeared on the court out of nowhere. Huh, she was good at that. "Well, if it isn't ex-coffee girl."

Brooke's smiled faded. "Well, if it isn't the real model." Lucas stepped back, leaving the two girls to their business. "How'd you find me here?"

"I ran into your friend Mouth at this restaurant. He saw me, begged me, and now I'm here."

Brooke smiled. Good job Mouth. Super brownie points for him.

"Cute boyfriend."

"Mouth?!" Rachel rolled her eyes, motioning behind her. Brooke glanced back at Lucas. "He's my roommate."

"Isn't that the same thing?" Rachel smirked, giving him a wink. Lucas smiled politely in return, giving her a wave. "Looks like a virgin."

Brooke couldn't stifle her laugh. "Most likely." Suddenly, she switched to serious mode, trying out Lucas and Mouth's suggestion: apologizing. "Look, about that whole incident."

"You're a bitch. I get it."

She sighed sharply. "Pretty much."

"So what? You're a bitch. I'm one too. So is Clemence. You got to be a bitch to stick in this business," Rachel said simply, twirling a strand of long red hair.

"Well, being a bitch for me got me sent back to the back of the room," she frowned.

"That's because she doesn't know you're one. She just thinks you're boring. You need to step up your game." Suddenly, Rachel leaned in, speaking softly. "Clemence is bringing three of her favorite interns to tonight's fashion show. And if you do something for me, I can assure you a spot there,"

Brooke bit her lip to stop from smiling and to stop from calling Rachel a sneaky little brown-noser. "What exactly do you want me to do?"

"Hook me up with your roommate."

Brooke raised an eyebrow. "Who? Oh. Oh my God. You want _Lucas_?" she whispered loudly. Rachel just grinned mischievously in response. Brooke stared back in shock. "Are you serious?"

"I've seen him around. He's hot. We have a deal?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked suddenly with a raised eyebrow.

"Because our kind has to stick together. The bad ass witches. And I've seen your designs. I'd rather wear yours than some of Clemence's frumpy dresses."

Brooke stared at the girl, in both surprise and slight hesitation. Quickly, she shook it off, fixing her face with a smile. "Done." Rachel smirked approvingly before exiting the basketball court without another word. As if almost instantly, Lucas joined her in a hurry.

"What happened?" he asked anxiously. "I was waiting for a cat fight."

"I got you a hot date," Brooke said simply, before heading back to the apartment. So all she had to do was sacrifice her nosy ass roommate to get on Clemence and Rachel's good side.

So what was up with that weird pang of disappointment she had in the bottom of her stomach? It was just Lucas, for Heaven's sake. That annoying little twit. He was so irritating! And he was kind of horny all the time. Well, that was actually a good thing, but still! Lucas was such a freak. Okay, a very cute freak.

But she'd have to save him for another time. Now, she was on her way to become a star.

God loves Brooke Davis.


	4. When You're Gone

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! They keep me motivated to write faster. Well, here's chapter four. Please read and review! Enjoy!**

Tree Hill, North Carolina was one of those towns where everybody had endless history. Haley James stepped out into the bright sunlight, shielding her eyes with a pair of dark sunglasses. She was fond of her hometown; it carried so many precious and dear memories. Tree Hill was where she was raised and born. It was where she took her first steps, had her first dance, received her first kiss, and became a woman. It was where her and her many siblings before her grew up into the human beings they are today, and that meant a lot to Haley.

However, Tree Hill was where she made her first very big decision.

Marriage.

Married at 18, the whole town was surprised at Haley's bold actions. She was always the good girl. The girl who did what she was told and obeyed every rule. She never did anything out of line and always got the best grades since Kindergarten. Haley was the ideal overachiever stereotype. And like most people with stereotypes, she wanted to change all that.

Enter Nathan Scott. Hot shot. Deadly handsome. Captain of his State Champion basketball team. A rich boy with a mayor for a dad and a corporate worker for a mom. Most of all, a ladies man. And, like most girls at Tree Hill High, Haley fell for him.

Their relationship was just a tutoring job in the beginning, but leave it to her best friend Brooke Davis to figure it all out.

"You like him!" she had accused gleefully.

Haley _was _the worst liar. And he was just too damn charming. Nathan had everything down; the looks, the body, the skill, the eyes... everything but the manners.

Nathan Scott may be the hottest guy Haley James had ever seen, but he was also the rudest and cockiest one, too.

But she couldn't help but fall madly for him. He made her want more than everything she already had. Nathan made Haley want to be a little on the bad side. To do things outside of her comfort zone. He wasn't the best example in the world, but he let and helped Haley do the things she always wanted to do in her life.

Nathan fell for Haley James. He fell _hard_. And he changed his ways just for her.

She was beautiful, innocent, and intelligent. Most of all, she was kind. Nathan never had too many people who were kind to him in his life. His father was a bitch, his mother was a druggie, his coach was always on his case, and everyone he knew expected more and more from him. But all Haley wanted was him. And all he ever wanted was her. He wanted to show the world that he loved her. She wanted to show everyone that there was more to her than meets the eye.

Their solution was getting married.

It was quick and simple. Just the two of them. Of course, Haley felt a deep sense of guilt for not inviting her family and Brooke and Peyton to the wedding, but it was all in the act of being spontaneous. She had decided then and there that for once in her life, she was going to do something for herself. Not for her mother, not for her father, or for her teachers, or for the town, but for Haley James.

And damn, did it feel good.

Haley glanced upwards, staring at the house before her. It was smaller than she remembered, but still the same whiteness with the red roof and shiny glass windows. A sweet smile formed in her heart; to her, this would always be home.

Knocking on the door softly, Haley felt slightly culpable. She hadn't seen her parents face to face in a whole year. She had tried, many times, but she was just too busy with school, work, and Chris.

Chris Keller.

Now that was a man who could love her.

Sure, he as just as cocky as Nathan. Sometimes rude. Okay, sometimes really rude. A bit of a party animal. Constantly horny. Well, on top of all that, he managed to be a good guy. From time to time. But what mattered was that he gave Haley opportunities of a lifetime. He provided her with a wonderful house, fancy car, clothes, jewelry, and an amazing lifestyle. It was all materialistic, but Haley had never really experienced any of it before.

And was it so bad to like all those things?

A new voice caught her attention. "Come here, baby! Give your Mama a hug!"

Haley's face glowed. "Hi Mom," she squealed, throwing her arms around hr mother.

"Let me take a good look at you, baby girl." Haley made a little spin, filled with giggles. "Oh my God, I raised a model. Look at you all fancy and with your New Yorkish attitude. And you have time to visit us little people?"

"Mom, knock it off," Haley laughed, hugging her mom once again. Mmm. She always smelled like freshly baked cookies, ever since she could remember.

"Who's at the door, Lydia?"

Her mother beamed. "Why don't you get off your tush and check it out yourself Jimmy?" Soft grumbles and reluctant moans followed as the distant sound of a squeaking couch echoed all the way towards the doorway.

"What is it," Jimmy mumbled, walking towards his wife. Abruptly, his eyes lit up. "Well, if isn't it my Haley-Bop."

"Hi Daddy," Haley smiled, embracing her father in a warm hug. It was nice being called Haley-Bop again.

"What is all the fuss?" a perky voice came from the background, the sound growing increasingly louder. The figure joined the rest of the group at the door, and Haley's jaw fell straight onto the floor.

"Oh. My. God."

"Hi there, little sis," Taylor James grinned, placing her hands on her hips. "What? I told you I moved back home."

"Yeah," Haley managed to get out, completely dumbstruck. "You just never told me you were... pregnant!"

Taylor glanced down at her protruding belly, smiling distantly. "Oh right. I forgot."

"You forgot!?" Haley gasped, reaching down to touch her sister's pregnant stomach. "It looks like you're about to give birth!"

"I _am_ eight months along."

"Tay! How could you not tell me?!"

She shrugged it off. "I thought I did. Why else would I move back home?"

"Because you love your mama," Lydia said simply, walking back inside the house as Taylor rolled her eyes. "Come on. You must be starved. I'm gonna fix up the best dinner feast that anyone in Tree Hill has ever seen." Her mother always seemed to know exactly what Haley needed. It was so nice to finally be at home.

---------------------------------

"My God, Hales. That is gorgeous!" her mother gasped at the dinner table, putting down her napkin.

"It looks expensive," her dad added quietly.

"Damn! You think he'll get me one if I asked?" Taylor laughed, staring intently at Haley's wedding finger.

Haley rolled her eyes. "Of course, Tay. It always works that way." Taylor shrugged mischievously and wiggled her eyebrows.

"I can't believe my baby girl snagged Chris Keller. He's a household name all over Tree Hill," her mother commented proudly.

"Because of me?"

"Because he's hot," Taylor grinned, touching her stomach gently. Haley laughed, playfully hitting her sister's shoulder. "Hey! Careful! Bun in the oven, Hales!"

"Jimmy, you're awfully quiet," Lydia nudged, staring at him with much concern.

"Well, what can I say?" he began softly. "One of my daughters is knocked up, and my youngest one is getting married for the second time before she's twenty-one while still being married to another man." Taylor and Haley both abruptly turned red, settling down. "I still don't know why you left Nathan. He's a fine young man."

"Jimmy!" Lydia exclaimed with disapproval.

"It's just not what I had in mind for my children," he admitted, leaning back in his chair. "Excuse me." Tossing his napkin aside, Jimmy suddenly left the dinner table in a quiet hurry. Haley sat, stunned.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know I'd be such trouble."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "It's not all about you. Dad is pissed at me for getting preggers. Your just the icing on the cake." She emphasized cake by rubbing her belly affectionately.

"Well, I think I've had enough of dinner," Lydia gave up, pushing her plate away. First night in Tree Hill equaled a disappointed father, a stressed mother, a knocked up sister, and a still married Haley. Woo.

---------------------------------

Haley and Taylor both laid cozily under the warm sheets of their old bunk bed, Haley on top and Taylor on the bottom. Just like always. The two sisters laid in comfortable silence before Taylor quietly piped up. "Who else knows about you and Nathan?"

Shocked by the question, it took Haley a couple of seconds to recollect herself. "Besides you and Mom and Dad, Peyton and Brooke. And probably the rest of Tree Hill." Haley sighed, rubbing her eyes. "I bet the whole town is gossiping about me. Great."

"Well since they are going to talk to you, might as well give them something to talk about," Taylor figured, laughing slightly. Haley grinned, but not joining in on the laughter.

"Do you think Dad's really upset?"

"Of course. Daddy's been in a sour mood ever since I came home pregnant. Now he finds out his precious baby girl is getting married to some famous guy he doesn't know just tops it off. Plus the fact your not divorced yet. I think you're arrival kind of made him explode inside or something."

Haley groaned guiltily. "Jeez, Tay, thanks for making me feel better."

"I wasn't trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to tell you the truth."

"Yeah, well, I'd like to feel better instead," she mumbled, rolling on her stomach. "Taylor," Haley began, biting her bottom lip. "Why didn't you tell me your pregnant?" The room grew silent. Stillness took over as the only sounds that echoed across the room was Haley's anxious breaths and the quiet noises of the shifting and ruffling sheets from the bottom bunk. Haley sighed, turning back on her back.

"It's the biggest mistake I've made so far," Taylor began, her voice peaceful. "The biggest, but my favorite mistake."

Haley smiled. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A girl," Taylor giggled. "God forbid I have a boy. Poor kid might turn gay with a mother like me."

Haley joined in the laughter as the two sisters had a good round of giggles. Haley's tone, however, abruptly became serious as the laughter diminished. "Who's the father?" Silence, once again, took over everything. "Tay?"

"I was in a bar, and it was just for one night," she said quickly. "I'm a bar whore, remember?" Haley frowned, fiddling with her blanket. "I don't even have his number. I don't even remember his last name."

"Tay - "

"I'm not the responsible one. You are," Taylor paused. "Well, you were." Haley rolled her eyes. "How _are_ you planning on breaking the news to your hubby?"

"He's _not_ my hubby! Chris is."

"Not yet."

"Well, technically no. but emotionally yes. Rings and big fancy ceremonies won't matter as long as if I'm with the person I love."

"That was on the Hallmark card I gave you for your first wedding," Taylor snorted.

"Well, I liked that card!" she laughed defensively. "Where exactly does he live now?"

"He?" Taylor smiled amused.

"Fine, if you're going to make me say his name, where does _Nathan_ live now? It'll save me the whole day tomorrow just searching for him."

"Well, if you're going to act like a whiny five year old, then I'll tell you. He lives in the big old Scott mansion," Taylor commented, tapping her stomach gently.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Deb went psycho and landed herself in rehab. And apparently Dan is in jail for killing his brother."

Haley's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?" Flopping onto her pillow, she realized she felt bad for ex, well, almost ex-husband. His relationship with his parents always sucked, and Haley was usually the one who helped him escape all that. Who was helping him now? "How did I not know all this?"

Taylor shrugged. "Dan's got people in the right places. He probably didn't want word to get out. Besides, I thought you wouldn't care."

Ouch. That hurt. "Well, I always knew Dan was a crazy evil perv."

"At least you and Nate we'll have something in common to talk about."

"Tay!" Haley rolled her eyes.

"He's stubborn, Hales. You of all people should now that," Taylor explained softly. "What makes you think he's going to listen to you now?"

She thought carefully for a moment. "I don't know," Haley admitted truthfully. "But by the end of tomorrow, you'll see. I'll be a divorced woman."

"Yeah, and I'll be a virgin," Taylor rolled her eyes. Haley responded simply by hanging her head over her bed and sticking her tongue out, an infamous move the two James sisters often kid each other with since childhood. Some things will never change.

---------------------------------

"So, hows the whole divorce thing going?"

Haley James bit her bottom lip before crossing the street with her cell phone glued onto her ear. "Currently nonexistence. I'm walking to his house right now."

"Tell me why the funeral march just came into my head right now."

"Shut up, Peyton," Haley laughed, glancing at a store window. "Hey, did you know Dan killed his brother a couple of years ago in Tree Hill?"

"Dan, Nathan's dad?" Peyton inquired on the other end.

"The very one."

"Woah! That's crazy!"

Haley nodded enthusiastically. "I know! His brother, Keith, I think. Or Kenneth. Something along those lines."

"Okay, I know this sounds incredibly crazy, but you know Brooke's super hot but super annoying roommate Lucas? Now, I'm thinking that Keith guy could be the dad of Lucas. They got the same last names and everything."

Haley let out a loud laugh that captured some onlookers' curious stares. "Okay, I think spending too much time it that crazy town of yours is doing you no good. How is life in Middlebury anyways?"

Peyton snorted on the other end. "Well Sara the Sunflower threw this huge fit at me when I ordered chicken for lunch, the basketball guys only call me 'skinny honey', and Arnie still won't lend me a pair of sunglasses."

Haley giggled. "Nice friends. It's like an episode of Gilmore Girls." Gazing around the corner, she turned right onto a bustling new street. "How about that Jake guy?"

A soft sigh was heard from the other end. "He's different," Peyton put it lightly.

She raised an eyebrow. "How, exactly?"

"It's like he's there when I don't need him, but not there when I do. I think he has some sort of secret or something because one minute he's there, and the next minute he says he has some 'business' to take care of."

"That's awkward."

"Very," Abruptly, soft rustling was heard in the background. "Ugh, sorry Hales. Nicole wants to spend some 'quality' time together, which basically means shopping for clothes at stores like Banana Republic or J. Crew." Haley needed a picture of _that_. "Kill me now."

"I have a feeling you might kill Nicole first," Haley laughed, dragging her feet along the sidewalk. "Bye."

Making a swift turn left, Haley felt her arm collide violently against someone's hard shoulder. A small stumble backwards, she could already feel the bruises forming. "Oh, God, I'm sorry," Haley muttered, rubbing her arm gently. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, it's okay," the not-so-injured blond reassured, pulling her hair behind her shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I will be," Haley smiled, looking up. Suddenly, her jaw drop. "Shelly?"

"Oh my God. Haley James?" the blond gasped, gazing at her with intense curiosity. Haley smiled and nodded awkwardly, giving a small wave. With the tiny greeting, Shelly threw herself on her, giving Haley a proper reunion hug. Awkward, now, yes. But in high school, Shelly was one of Haley's closest friends outside of Peyton and Brooke. "Oh, my. I haven't seen you since I think that senior grad party three years ago! You look so..." Shelly tilted her head. "Modern."

Haley smiled, thinking of it as a compliment. Living in a big city upped her appearance slightly from girl-next-door to sophisticated New Yorker. "You look so..." Haley thought cautiously. "Clean."

"Well, I stopped running Clean Teens, actually," she admitted. Haley grinned. It wasn't exactly what she meant, but sure. "Now, I heard from a certain little grape vine that you're getting engaged to that cute guitarist Chris Keller? Oh my God, it's true isn't it? Well, isn't that divine. Little shy Haley James marrying a rock star! And we all thought that would happen to Brooke instead, and you'd marry a stock broker. But also now, this little birdie nearby told me you're still married to Nathan Scott! Well, actually, that birdie probably told everyone because everybody here in Tree Hill still knows _that_." Haley raised a nervous eyebrow. Shelly Simon was that all-American poster girl for two things. Virginity and gossip.

And she's doing her job well.

"Actually, that's what I'm in town for. To sort of officially clear out me and Nathan's marriage," Haley spoke quickly, a bit careful to tell Shelly the whole truth. Too bad Haley sucked ass at lying, so sticking to the truth was all she did.

However, before Shelly could say another word, a horn honked at the two ladies from across the street. Good timing, Haley praised the Lord as she searched the driver's seat. Squinting her eyes, she gazed at the waving man who was staring at the pair with a big, cheesy smile.

"Always trying to pick up ass," Shelly rolled her eyes. "When will this boy learn?"

Haley gasped. There was only one boy in the whole world who she knew would hit on _anyone_. "TIM?" she called anxiously.

"Hey, baby, what's your sign?" he beamed, jumping – no, skipping out of the car.

"Do not enter," Shelly rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest.

"I wasn't talking to you," Tim stuck out his tongue. "I was talking to the married-to-a-billion-people girl over here." Haley rolled her eyes, sticking out her tongue too as she brought him in for a hug. So Tim wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, and Haley, well, was. But he was Nathan's best friend since forever which had made him and Haley required friends. They clashed almost everyday, but it was something that Haley had missed dearly. And as uncharming and ridiculous as he was, Tim knew how to be one thing very well.

A good friend.

"Tim! I haven't seen you in forever."

"Well, you could've brought your tiny, but very nice butt over here every once in awhile." Haley blushed; his tone wasn't harsh, but it wasn't kind either. But Tim, being Tim, had an attention span the size of an ice cube. "So, uh, does Brooke still want me?"

Haley tapped his back sympathetically. "Not yet."

"Tim, can't you hit on someone who isn't engaged? I mean married. Almost divorced?" Shelly wondered out loud.

"Unfortunately," Haley sighed. "All of the above."

---------------------------------

Haley examined the door right in front of her. For one, it belonged to a huge, old fashioned house, which was none other than the Scott household. The door was dark red. Oak, probably. Tall. With a golden knocker. And... dark red. She tried desperately to think of another adjective for it, her mind running wild. Well, there was that plant next to the door. Oh! Maybe she could think of adjectives for the plant instead! Oh, there was a bug there too! Haley smiled faintly. She was open to anything to prolong her meeting with Nathan.

She had been standing in front of the Scott residence for the last 10 minutes without doing anything but describing every item on their front porch. Well, what was she suppose to do? Knock on the door, greet her husband she hadn't seen in three years, and ask for a divorce? Haley snorted. She only wished it would be that easy. Readjusting her shoulder bag, Haley fluffed her hair gently. Then fluffed it again. And again. She was doing everything she could to stall.

"Bark, bark!"

Haley raised an eyebrow, whipping her head around. Then, in a blink of an eye, an enormous golden lab pounced on the unsuspecting blond. "AHH!" she shrieked, falling onto the scratchy, grassy lawn. Thankfully, the dog was more friendly than scary, but it was trying desperately to lick poor Haley's face. Hoping to pry the lab of of her, it, however, managed to pin her down with pure enjoyment. Sighing, she decided to give in, gently petting the dog around its neck, whispering "good boy." The dog was enjoying it a bit too much and started barking loudly for all the world to hear.

Well, at least she didn't need to find something else to stall her.

"Duke, come here, boy!"

The dog briskly left Haley to her peace as he trotted away to to the deep voice that had called out to him. She let out a breath of relief, falling back down onto the grass.

"Don't worry. He doesn't bite," the calm voice assured her. Haley nodded gratefully, sprawling herself onto the grass. Taking in another deep breath, she pushed herself up on her palms, finding the energy to stand on her two legs.

"Yeah, he's pretty friendly," she laughed, brushing the grass off her bright green dress. Glancing up at the mysterious voice, Haley dropped her hand in shock. The man stared right back at her, completely stunned as well.

There, standing right there, happened to be the one and only Nathan Scott.

They stood in silence, just staring at each other blankly. Her brown eyes met his beautiful blue ones. Haley noted that he actually did look good. Very good. She could see he was tan from the summer sun. Most probably from playing basketball all day. He was even in his basketball apparel. His hair was fortuantely shorter than it was in senior year, and she was personally thankful. Haley always hated his long hair. Nathan suddenly bent down, scratching Duke behind his ears. She gasped. God, he was toned. He _did_ have the best body Haley had ever seen. Well, not that she ever actually seen a lot of male bodies up close.

"What are you doing here?" Nathan suddenly spoke, his voice irritated.

Haley furrowed her brow at his frustrated tone. "You've been sending my divorce papers back for the last three years." He stayed silent, playing with Duke. "I want my divorce, Nathan."

Frowning, Nathan narrowed his cold eyes at her. "What makes you think you could just bring your uptight, fancy, New York ass down here and get whatever you want?" He scoffed, standing back up. "Well thanks, Haley, very much for the standard 'hi husband, how have you been for the last three years? I wouldn't know, even if I am your _wife_.' I really appreciate it."

Haley opened her mouth, stunned, as she pointed her finger at him angrily. "What, you really expect me to do that? You'd probably laugh at my face and slam the door on me, and don't even pretend you wouldn't do that. So, just give me what I want, and I'll give you what you want."

"And what, exactly, do I want?"

"To be left alone," Haley stated harshly.

"I sent back those papers. What makes you think I'll sign them now?" He snapped moodily.

"Why _did_ you send back those papers, Nathan?" she asked curiously, narrowing her eyes.

"Because when you left, I wanted to do nothing but piss you off as much as I could."

"Well, the game's over, Nathan," Haley frowned, grabbing the divorce papers out of her bag. "I'm pissed. Are you happy?" He made a mocking smile at her, completely aggravated. "Just sign the papers." Nathan stared impatiently at her, rolling his eyes. "Please?" She asked exasperated. It was more of a demand than a question.

"You're different," he muttered, glancing at the papers.

Haley sighed sharply. It was true. Haley wasn't the same shy and simple girl-next-door who once lived in Tree Hill, and for one, she was utterly proud. "You're right. I changed. I don't even know who that girl is anymore."

"Then let me remind you," Nathan said, and Haley could have sworn she had found the sense of hurt in his voice. Abruptly, he turned around and walked away, leaving Haley all alone as Duke trotted behind him. Haley frowned, realizing he was gesturing the fact that he was 'leaving,' just like Haley did after senior year.

"Ugh!" Haley groaned. "You're just so stubborn!"

Nathan swifted gears and turned back around towards her. Duke strolled in between the quarreling pair with interest. "And what, you're all high and mighty? The amazing Haley James _Scott_?"

"Don't call me that," she frowned.

"It's your name until I sigh those papers."

"Then just sign them!"

"No."

"Why the not?!" she groaned exasperated.

"Because I'm not going to let you come back and get everything you want just because you're here! You're not the princess of this world who can do whatever she wants when she wants to. The old Haley would have been smarter than that."

"Are you saying I'm dumb now?"

Nathan tilted his head back. "I'm saying you're not the same."

"I think that's a good thing."

"You can think whatever you want, but when you stop being this prissy princess, then I'll sign you're damn papers."

Haley scoffed, but stayed silent. She didn't know what to say to that. Suddenly, Duke started barking loudly between the two for attention. "Why do you have a dog?" she blurted out curiously.

His pure blue eyes stared at her for a moment as if he was battling what to say. "It gets lonely," he admitted finally, his tone slightly painful. Haley frowned, more out of pity than anger. His father was in jail, his mother was crazy, he had no other relatives in Tree Hill, and she, of course, was also gone. Nathan had every reason to be alone, and Haley was reluctantly feeling sorry for him.

"I'd love to stand here in silence for the rest of the evening, but I actually have a date," Nathan stated matter-of-factly, walking back towards the house.

"What!" Haley exclaimed, completely bewildered. He had a date? He had a DATE? _What the hell?!_ That's not possible!

"I just thought it was only fair. You're engaged, and I get a hot date. It's a win win situation for both of us."

She gasped, biting her bottom lip. Nathan _knew_ she was engaged. Haley should have suspected it, but it was still hard to believe. How did he know that!? "How did you know that!?"

"Baby, I may not be the smartest guy, but I'm not dumb." She let out a deep sigh, folding her arms across her chest. "I'd ask you to join us, but I wouldn't want you to feel awkward," he grinned smugly.

Haley raised an eyebrow, feeling the tables turn. "Actually, as a matter of fact, I would like to come. It'd be nice to meet your cute little date." Nathan's eyes widened as he tried to protest, but Haley cut him off. "Oh, don't you worry. I won't embarrass you. I'll just introduce myself as your bitchy New York wife who you won't divorce. How's that sound?"

Nathan narrowed his eyes coldly at her. "Just peachy." She gave him a sweet and satisfied smile.

Two can play at this game, and Haley was determined to win.

**A/N: Loved it? Hated it? Only one way for me to know.. review please: Now, you know the format. Peyton is next, and things are about to get discovered, revealed, and a whole lot fluffy!**


	5. Dirty Little Secret

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews! They really make my day better. :) Now for those of you who are wondering about Nathan and Haley's divorce, it will be revealed in a later chapter. Now, I hope you like chapter 5 of _Summer Girls_. It's longer than normal as my July 4th treat to you all. Enjoy!**

Peyton Sawyer casually glanced around her surroundings, the afternoon sun staring politely at her face. Myrna's Marvelous Diner was most describable as the hot spot of Middlebury with its 1950s quirkiness and the delicious smells of freshly bake muffins snaking its way through the customer's desire for a stolen taste. Sure, in a way, the theme was rather tacky. If Peyton was with Brooke, she would describe it as "wannabe-cute," and Haley would smack her arm saying it had "potential." Peyton would roll her eyes at both of them, ordering them to shut up and to eat somewhere else. The thought slightly pained her. She wasn't with Brooke or Haley, but she was with Jake – or more a sleeping Jake.

"Come on, Jake. Wake up!" Peyton playfully smacked the brown haired boy's head.

"Ouch. What the heck was that for?" the boy groaned sheepishly.

"For being so goddamn lazy," she smirked.

For the past two weeks, Peyton had adjusted herself to her own everyday routine created by hers truly. Her first duty of the morning was to slip out as quietly and early as she could to avoid awkward conversations with both her father and Nicole. She'd head over to Myrna's for a 6:00 A.M. breakfast, usually by herself or whoever else would be there so early. After, she'd take a morning walk around town with either Sunflower or Arnie, and usually with Arnie because he actually talked during their daily morning stroll. Sunflower would rather insist on listening to the "morning creatures sing their songs of early day hope."

That woman was on crack.

Then, she'd arrive early at Myrna's where she would help her with the busy lunch hour rush. Cooking, cleaning, waitressing; whatever she needed help with. Peyton would sometimes continue to help afterwards by offering her duty to clean dishes. Myrna usually declined the offer, unless if it was an extremely crowded on that certain day. Peyton normally disliked dishwashing or doing any kind of work, but anything that kept her away from home was fine by her. She'd proceed to take a free late lunch which was often accompanied by the basketball boys or Myrna herself. After, she continued on her routine by heading over to the rather huge basketball court where she'd watch and joke around with the guys. If she was up to it, Peyton would even join in on the game.

That hardly ever happened. She hated sports.

A full stomach and a heart filled with laughter, Peyton would make her way to Deaf Jeff's Music where he would let her plug in her iPod into the surround sound stereo as she sketched her newest piece of artwork peacefully in the back of the store. This lasted until dinner time where she'd casually make her way back towards the stuffed diner. Everyone would be there at dinner time: Myrna, Vern, Arnie, Sunflower, Skills and the basketball crew, and Jake. And whoever else wanted to join in. It was truly a Kodak family moment.

Peyton gagged the first day this happened. Family moments weren't something she was accustomed to.

But hey. She improvised.

After a long dinner, she'd take her evening walk all over town with Jake. And with only Jake Jagielski. It was the only time of the day she'd actually see him, and Peyton would do her best to try and make the walk as long as possible by doing everything in her power to distract him from going home. The first couple of days were quite simple, but now it was harder to make her deed appear subtle.

But he didn't seem to mind either.

They would talk for hours about anything and everything. Fear of snakes, stupid horror movies, love for blueberry pancakes, impressions of various TV characters, and crazy school teachers. The pair would talk about childhood memories, old relationships, lasting friendships, and all things that mattered.

Peyton, however, never liked to let people in. Her heart was like shattered stain glass, and every time she'd try to pick up the pieces, she'd cut her hands.

But with Jake, he bandaged those tortured hands and picked the pieces up himself, leaving the pain to cut him with no complaint.

She let him.

It wasn't that Peyton had feelings for him, per say. He was just there to talk to in her times of need.

Honestly. It wasn't a crush! Just… a friendship. Yeah. Friendship. That's a good word.

But he found ways to dig inside her soul, really dig. It was like he stared at her eyes, and he knew. He knew everything, and Peyton stopped hiding it. Of course, she felt like a total girl doing so, but it was worth it.

So every day, for the past two weeks, she'd reveal herself in their two hour walk. Sometimes three, but they'd rather sit down for the last hour.

But every day, after their walk, he would disappear completely, saying he had 'business' waiting for him to deal with. Peyton had concluded he was either in the mafia or a secret F.B.I. agent on a job.

It was just a guess or two.

Jake laughed, rubbing his tired eyes, bringing Peyton back to earth. "I had a rough time last night."

"Someone's kinky," Peyton teased, shifting in her cushy red seat.

"She just kept me up," Jake admitted, yawning slightly as he dropped his head onto the shiny aqua blue counter.

"That girl must've been an animal."

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Jen's a wild one." She didn't comment, but just tried to smile understandingly as she sank deeper into her chair.

Today was different. Jake had come to Myrna's early in the morning, and Peyton had inquired why he was there so early. He shrugged it off, saying he was going to spend the whole day in town. Asking her if she would like to join him, Peyton agreed casually.

Inside, she was exploding, and Peyton Sawyer does not explode easily.

Okay, okay! So she had a small thing for him. Eh, small… big. It was all the same. Who's counting? God, this town made her feel so girly.

It wasn't like she didn't have boyfriends before. Peyton did. They were just kind of stupid, to put it lightly, and it was hard not to fall for Jake Jagielski. He was sweet, kind, gorgeous, gentle, caring, shy, cute…

Oh, damn it.

"You know, it's been two weeks, and you still haven't given me the grand tour of Middlebury yet," Peyton informed him easily. Jake didn't answer, but made a weird gurgling noise instead. Peyton raised an amused eyebrow as she leaned in closer to discover him taking an afternoon nap right in the middle of the bustling restaurant. She slapped his arm, and his head sequentially bolted up.

"Wha?!"

"You're not listening."

"Yeah, I was!" he defended nervously.

"What did I say, then?"

"Yeah, I wasn't listening," Jake gave in.

Peyton laughed. "I said you still haven't given me the grand tour of Middlebury yet. Like you promised?"

"You've been here long enough. You practically know all the ins and outs."

"You pinky sweared!" she accused playfully, pointing a finger at him. "And you know what? You're going to give it to me today because I'm officially bored out of my mind." Jake moaned as Peyton pulled him up off his tired ass as the two headed out the diner, both waving sweet goodbyes to Myrna.

"Okay, okay," Jake laughed as they crossed a bustling street. "I give in. I'll show you the tour."

"Damn straight," Peyton smirked happily.

"But this won't be any regular tour," he warned playfully, pointing a finger and stifling his smile. "I'm going to give you the Secret Tour of Middlebury."

She laughed easily. "I like secrets."

"I hoped you would." Gazing around the heart of downtown, everything was already alive and ready for the new day. Jake scratched the back of his head as Peyton raised a curious eyebrow.

"So… fun tour."

He smiled sheepishly. "What time is it?"

"9:48," she replied, glancing at her cell phone. "Why?"

"There are three big secrets of Middlebury," he explained, grabbing her wrist gently as he went along. "You know how the meat butcher shop opens at 10:00?" Peyton nodded nervously as he brought her towards the certain shop. "Secret Number One: There's a certain customer who gets her meat early." Peyton watched him as if were out of his mind as he brought her cautiously in front of said butcher shop. He waited anxiously for a moment, as if expecting something to pop out of the ground.

Then on cue, light footsteps echoed across the concrete. Peyton's eyes widened as he pulled her behind the corner, their heads' barely peeking out from behind the bricks.

"Is," Peyton began, squinting her eyes carefully. "Is that… Sunflower?" Jake nodded, and she stifled a snort. A vegan hippie at a meat shop. Cute.

Sunflower glanced around, and the two threw themselves quickly behind the corner in an attempt not to be spotted. Peyton sequentially landed on top of him, hoping to cause less noise, and… for other reasons. Sunflower, oblivious to the pair of onlookers, proceeded inside the shop. Waiting for a quick second, Peyton and Jake slowly made their way towards the front store window and curiously glancing in. Just as he predicted, there was Sunflower sneakily buying a pound of fresh sausage.

"Oh my god," Peyton laughed, clasping a hand over her mouth.

"Girl just loves her sausage," Jake joined in the soft laughter. Sunflower suddenly tilted her head, and glanced suspiciously towards the store window. Peyton and Jake, however, were already across the street, bursting out in laughter.

Secret Number One: Sunflower, the "dedicated hippie," isn't exactly the "dedicated vegetarian."

"And she yelled at me that one time I ordered chicken!" Peyton laughed, placing her hands firmly on her hips.

"You should've ordered sausage," Jake offered.

"But then I'd probably have to share." The two continued laughing as they strolled down a less crowded street. Peyton examined the area briefly, slightly confused. She had never been here before. Only a handful of people were moseying by; some with a cigar in their hands, and others who looked like they were up to no good. She furrowed her brow questioningly before she gazed up at Jake.

"Where the hell are we?" she inquired softly.

Jake merely smiled. "Have you ever overlooked something before?"

Peyton racked her brain. She probably had but nothing so significant that she could remember it. What she did know was that most people overlooked _her_. She wasn't just a moody cheerleader who was always against the world. But to hell what people think. Peyton only cared if she was happy with who she was, and currently, she was damn pleased.

Jake raised a pair of entertained eyebrows as he pushed aside a couple of planks of wood plastered together. She stood stunned. Those bunched up pieces of wood actually created a door.

Okay, so Peyton overlooked a couple of things before.

He smiled and took her hand gently in his as he led her briskly through the wood door. Peyton couldn't help but feel a rush of energy as his hand touched hers. She looked up silently at him, wondering if he felt the same.

Apparently not. His face stayed the same.

Peyton forced herself to ignore it as they pushed their way past another door, this time normal. Becoming increasingly curious, she glanced inside the new room, and her ears were filled with tasteful music. She was staring face to face at one of those hip clubs were performers read insightful poems and everyone wears black.

Peyton glanced down. Sweet, she was wearing a black shirt.

Secret Number Two: Even tiny, crazy towns have a place where they play good music.

Shifting her gaze towards Jake, he just smiled sweetly. "I know you like music, and not a lot people go to this place. It took me about a year to even figure out it was here. It's called Tranquil."

She smiled thankfully, taking a good look around her. It was reasonable dark, and the tiny scattered lights hanging from the ceiling gave off a soft bluish glow around the small club. Most of the customers stayed quietly to themselves, either listening casually to the music, having an afternoon drink, or chatting almost silently amongst their peers. There was a bar in the back, a row of worn sofas in the front, and an awaiting stage accompanied by a tall microphone next to a stool with a silent guitar leaning against it.

This was a terrible thing to overlook.

"Why don't you get a drink? I need to do something real quick," he suggested.

"You're not going to disappear on me, are you?" Peyton grinned, half-serious. She didn't want him to leave mysteriously to do whatever it was he always did. She was enjoying him too much.

Jake merely shook his head, giving her an honest smile. "I wouldn't dare." Giving the bartender a nod, he swiftly disappeared into the crowd. Peyton pursed her lips disappointedly before making her way towards the quaint bar.

"What'd you like?"

"Just a water," she informed him, placing herself on a stool.

"Not a big drinker?" he questioned curiously, handing her the full glass.

"Not today," she commented. Suddenly, an idea struck her. A small smile spread across her lips. "Is there a job opening here?"

The guy shrugged. "Possibly. Why? Want one?"

Peyton grinned. "Possibly."

The guy laughed. "I like you. How do you feel about being a barista?"

She weighed her options. Peyton was thinking more along the lines of introducing the musicians on stage, but she'd take what she could get. It was another way to keep her away from home. "It's a deal."

The dark-skinned guy, who was probably in his late 20s, extended his hand. "I'm Derek Sommers."

"Peyton," she nodded, shaking his hand.

"Hey. How's everyone doing?" a voice boomed around the club. Peyton glanced towards the stage, and low and behold, Jake Jagielski was sitting there on the stool that stood proudly on the stage. Peyton stared curiously up at him with a small smile.

This boy was unbelievable.

"You're in for a treat," Derek commented from behind the bar. "This guy is really good." She just smiled; a big smile.

"This song," he began, his eyes fixed on Peyton. "I think you'll guys will like."

_"The strands in your eyes that color them wonderful __Stop me and steal my breath __Emeralds from mountains thrust toward the sky __Never revealing their depth __Tell me that we belong together __Dress it up with the trappings of love __I'll be captivated __I'll hang from your lips __Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above__."_

In a way, Peyton was kind of colorblind. She was able to get the whole picture, but missed the splashes of color in between. She skimmed past the worthy details to find the real meaning, but what she misses is that maybe the answer is actually in between the lines.

_"I'll be your crying shoulder __I'll be your love suicide __and I'll be better when I'm older __I'll be the greatest fan of your life."_

Jen. Jen! What was Peyton talking about? She couldn't fall for Jake. He obviously had a girlfriend. That Jen girl; the one who probably had the perfect smile, flawless body, and beautiful eyes. Everything that Peyton didn't have.

_"Rain falls angry on the tin roof __As we lie awake in my bed __You're my survival, you're my living proof __My love is alive not dead __Tell me that we belong together __Dress it up with the trappings of love __I'll be captivated I'll hang from your lips __Instead of the gallows of heartache, that hang from above."_

Maybe it was better this way. Jake deserved someone who could show him the world, and who could make him happy. Peyton doubted she could even attempt any of that. He deserved someone like Jen - someone perfect.

_"I'll be your crying shoulder __I'll be your love suicide __and I'll be better when I'm older __I'll be the greatest fan of your life."_

This song wasn't meant for her. It was meant for Jen.

Abruptly, a huge wave of applause broke through her thoughts. Stunned, she glanced around at the cheering crowd as Derek motioned her to join in the ovation. Yes. It was easier this way. Peyton couldn't fall in love with someone in Middlebury. Who would ever love someone like her anyways? It was stupid. She was stupid.

But a small part of Peyton really did want Jake to be her greatest fan of her life.

---------------------------------

"Ready for secret number three?" he inquired with a smile. It was dark outside now. They had spent the rest of the afternoon at the Club Tranquil, and much to Jake's dismay, Peyton stayed quiet most of the time.

He deserved it for a singing a stupid love song to her when he had a girlfriend.

Bastard.

She, at first, tried to be an absolute bitch to him, but it was hard being horrible to Jake. His smile was just too damn cute. Peyton opted for the silent treatment instead, but that didn't work either. She just_ had_ to like talking to him. So she finally decided that quick and simple answers were his punishment.

Okay. It was lame.

Whatever.

"Sure," she muttered casually to him, taking a lick out of her butter pecan ice cream. Jake was oblivious to her cold behavior as he once again took her hand gingerly.

Damn stupid girly feelings.

He was excited for whatever this secret was. Jake grinned along his way towards their new destination with Peyton keeping up by his side. She couldn't help herself but feel curious.

"Okay, close your eyes."

Peyton raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"It's a secret."

She managed to stifle a grin as she took the last bite of her ice cream before shutting her eyes close. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction that she was psyched. Jake once again took her hands delicately in his as led her silently through downtown Middlebury. Peyton refused to talk, but her heart was pounding rapidly, and she couldn't find a way to silence it. She could hear voices of people chattering and laughing at their own little conversations that Peyton would never know about. Breathing deeply, the smell of baked treats breezed its way up her nostrils. They were near Myrna's Diner. More laughter. It was probably diner time.

"Take a step up. Okay, another one," Jake ordered, guiding her up a couple of steps. "Okay. Stay here and don't move."

"Jake –" Was he seriously going to leave her there?

Bigger bastard.

"Just keep your eyes close." Peyton could hear his footsteps disappear before she had a time to answer. Great. She was by herself in God knows where completely blind. A few moments passed, and Peyton sighed sharply. If he wasn't back in five min –

Abruptly, she was surrounded by light. They found a way to peak past her eyelids, but Peyton didn't dare to open her eyes yet. If Middlebury wasn't weird enough, it just got weirder.

"Okay," Jake's voice appeared by her side. "Open your eyes."

Peyton's eyelids fluttered open, and she gasped completely amazed.

She was standing in the middle of a beautiful white gazebo, the outside wrapped with growing rosebuds and lacing vines. It was rather large, and very fancy with intricate columns and a golden sash wrapped on the inside. A gorgeous garden encircled the building and added a taste of sweet color. The top was stringed with a billion little bulb lights, like the ones used for Christmas time. Peyton's eyes shifted towards the lawn surrounding the brilliant gazebo. The old fashioned lit street lights that circled the grassy area had the tiny bulbs wrapped around them also. Light was everywhere, saving her from the darkness.

Secret Number Three: You have got to have love for gazebos.

It was clearly the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

Because there, right then and there, she felt something for the first time surrounded by the billions of lights, flowers, and Jake.

She felt beautiful.

"Jake. I… " Peyton couldn't figure out what to say. "Thank you."

He beamed at her, his smile proud. But before he could say another word, his cell phone began to ring. Peyton glanced at the caller ID, and her heart fell.

It was Jen.

"Um, I have to go," he said quickly.

A moment ago, everything in Peyton's world was perfect. But like most moments, they're gone.

---------------------------------

"Can I have an iced tea?"

"Sure," Peyton smiled simply at the customer before disappearing for the requested drink.

Disappear. Just like Jake did.

Peyton frowned. She had avoided him the past couple of days. She couldn't look at him or stare at him straight in the eye and say everything is okay with her. Peyton couldn't lie to him. Not him.

Her solution was to busy herself at Club Tranquil. It was plainly easily. Ask people what they wanted to drink or eat and get it for them. Tada. Job done.

Handing the drink to the customer, the girl smiled faintly before turning her attention back to the performer on stage. The girl was pretty; had a nice smile, petite, and had soft brown eyes.

Peyton scowled.

"Is there something wrong?" the girl asked with concern. Great. She was nice, too. Just great.

"Is your name Jen?" Peyton inquired irritatingly.

The girl stared at her with raised eyebrows. "My name's Courtney."

A wave of relief swept across Peyton's face. "Um, sorry. You look like a Jen." The girl just turned back around, obviously freaked out by her actions. Peyton shrugged it off, making her way around the bar.

A bell chimed, signaling a new person had entered the club. Peyton turned to greet the customer, but the new faces nearly gave her a heart attack.

Her dad and Nicole.

She ducked under the bar, her eyes wide. This seemed to freak Courtney out even more as she left her seat for another one as far away from Peyton as possible. She didn't care. There were other important thoughts in her mind like what the hell were Nicole and her dad doing there! This place was actually cool! They… weren't!

Her life was sucking by the minute.

"Hey, skinny honey. I didn't know you worked here now," a voice bellowed on top of her. Peyton glanced up to see Skills' smiling face. "I didn't know you were weird either." He added, noticing she was hiding from behind the bar.

She gasped, motioning Skills to shut up.

"Huh?" he asked loudly.

"Shut up!" Peyton hissed.

"Damn, girl. You're really odd."

She rolled her eyes. "Look to your right," she whispered the order.

"Yo, it's your pops and Nicole. Ohhhhhhhh." Peyton made a sarcastic smile as Skills bent down towards her. "And you're hiding because…?"

She sighed guilty. "I haven't had a decent conversation with either of them since we got here. I don't think they even know I work here."

"Smooth move, girl."

"Yeah. Brilliant idea from yours truly."

"Oh, dawg, they're moving," Skills whispered to her quietly, eyeing the couple. A bell chime rang softly. Peyton peeked cautiously over the bar. "And they outta here."

"Quick!" she grabbed Skills shirt roughly as she jumped over the bar counter. "Derek, I need a break." Not waiting for his answer, she intently dragged poor Skills out of the club and hastily towards the couple.

"Yo, chill. Do not be ripping my shirt, ma. I need to look good for the ladies," Skills mumbled frustratingly as Peyton searched the tops of people's heads for a certain pair.

"Do you see them?" she questioned in a rush.

Skills gave in on the search, glancing around. "Left!" he pointed towards the direction.

Peyton followed his hand and quickly followed behind, doing her best to conceal herself.

"What the hell are we doing?" He questioned, sneaking right behind her.

"We're following them," she informed him briskly. "I want to see what my dad sees in her." Nicole and Larry walked around a corner, and Skills and Peyton trailed them silently on their heel. All they were doing was walking. Walking around the corner, past the street, on the sidewalk. Walking. Laughing. Talking.

It was like they were some normal couple!

Peyton refused to believe it. They couldn't be normal! Nicole couldn't be normal! She was supposed to be a home wrecking, evil, gold digging bitch who somehow hypnotized her father to love her.

"Pey?" Skills whispered. "Maybe you should just accept it."

She stared back at him; the backs of her eyes were stinging. Shit. Waterworks.

"Yo, we've been following them for the last thirty minutes. I like Nicole, and I like your Pop. I think they really love each other, you know? Maybe you a'int liking this right now, but you know your dad. Maybe you should trust him that this might be a good move and just accept them."

Peyton bit her lip, forcing the tears to stay in. "I can't, Skills." So much for trying to stifle the tears. They slid down her hot cheeks, one by one. "I'm sorry, but I can't. And I won't." The wall around her heart broke down as Peyton collapsed into a fit of tears, finding herself wrapped sadly in Skills arms, the memory of being surrounded by the beautiful billion lights faded away.

---------------------------------

Peyton exhaled. Inhaled, and then exhaled. She paused for a moment, and then inhaled again. Holding her breath, she bit her lip nervously before knocking loudly at the door in front of her.

She hadn't seen Jake in more than a week, mostly because she refused to. So why is it that a person she disliked so much was always on her mind? Getting a hold of Brooke and Haley, she informed her best friends on the situation.

"Talk to him! Why would someone go through all that trouble to do those things for you if it didn't mean anything?" Haley had said.

"The guy's a jerk. Maybe you should just give him a piece of your mind, and then drop him. He's not worth it if he always ditches you," Brooke had argued.

However, they both seemed to agree that if Jake was always on her mind, maybe he was supposed to be there. She just had to do something about it.

Still, Peyton didn't exactly know which path to choose, but she got Jake's address from the yellow pages, and forced herself to knock on the door. She didn't know whether to confess her feelings to him, or tell him off. Whichever the case was, Peyton was there, and she'd know what to do when she'd see him.

Abruptly, the door creaked open, pulling Peyton's head out of her thoughts.

"Hi!"

Um, that was a strangely girlish voice for Jake. Peyton glanced down to find a grinning little girl, gazing at Peyton with intense curiosity.

"Um, Hi," Peyton tilted her head questioningly. "Is this the Jagielski residence?"

The girl giggled. "I'm Jenny Jagielski, I'm four years old, and I live on Wellington Street, Middlebury, Wisconsin," she recited. Peyton raised an eyebrow. She didn't recall Jake saying he had a sister…

"Jen? Who is it?" Jake called from inside the house. Peyton gasped.

Oh. My. God. JEN!

Jake's girlfriend was… four years old? Peyton racked her brain. Wait… what the hell was going on?

"Jenny, what - " Jake stopped, coming up close contact with Peyton. Suddenly, his face became shy.

"Jen," she said simply, still stunned. He nodded carefully. Peyton glanced back at the girl, who was now playing with a ladybug on the front porch. "Wow, um. Oh, God. I feel really stupid," she tried to laugh, running a hand through her curly hair. "I thought. Um. Well, I thought that girl Jen you were talking about was you're girlfriend, not your little sister."

Jake took in a deep breath. "She's my daughter."

"I know, it's really funny - Wait. What?!" Peyton blurted out, staring at the little girl.

"Want to know Secret Number Four?" he grinned sheepishly. "That's my daughter, Jenny." Peyton's mouth opened, but nothing came out. "That's why I'm gone all the time. I have to take care of her, and when I'm out, that's when my parents are able to babysit."

Secret Number Four: Jake has a secret daughter.

Damn.

"But… she called you on your cell phone that night!"

"My home phone is labeled 'Jen' on my cell."

"But," Peyton started. "Why didn't you tell me?" she managed to ask, gazing at Jenny. It was official. Her heart was clearly pounding out of her chest.

Jake shrugged. "I really don't know. It's not something I share on a day to day basis." He sounded completely honest. "Would you like to come inside?"

Peyton stared shocked before nodding absentmindedly as she made her way inside the small household. Jenny followed, bouncing along behind them. It was a cute house. Small, but cute. Her mind, however, wasn't focused on how cute the house was. More like the fact that Jake had a love child, to be quite honest.

He lead her wordlessly into the backyard, where Jenny followed, bringing along a pink plush elephant. Leaning against the sliding doorframe, Peyton watch as the little girl cheerfully fled towards an almost broken looking sandbox to play happily with her toy elephant.

She slightly reminded Peyton of a mini Brooke. Minus the boys and alcohol.

"When you said come inside, I was thinking more of a couch," she tried to ease up their situation, but Jake didn't laugh. His eyes were focused on Jenny.

"I don't bring her out for a reason," he began, running a rough hand through his hair. "And it's not because I'm ashamed."

"I never said you were," she countered softly.

"Her mother, Nikki, thinks Jenny belongs to her. I have full custody, but she has a knack for kidnapping. And Nikki always seems to find ways to get herself out of trouble, and I can't put Jenny in danger again by constantly leaving her alone," he informed her solemnly. Peyton did her best to nod along and try to understand the situation, but she couldn't. It was just too much at once.

"Nikki sounds like a bitch."

Jake rubbed his chin. "If you want to put it lightly." Peyton smiled. "Not everyone in the town knows about Jenny. Skills, Fergie, and Junk do. My parents, and now, you."

"I feel kind of lucky," she figured thoughtfully.

"I feel like a jerk."

"Why's that?"

"For that night in the gazebo." At that point, she felt her heart being ripped in two. "I was just… I –I didn't know what I was doing. It was just there, and you were there, and I thought it would be nice if you could see it." Peyton bit her lip to keep the tears from pouring out. "I'm an idiot. I didn't mean for it to even happen."

The two stared at each other. _Really_ stared. It wasn't romantic or passionate or seductive. It was more of Peyton searching for the truth, and Jake searching for forgiveness.

"What's your name?" Peyton snapped her head towards Jenny, who was now standing curiously in front of her.

"Peyton," she managed to escape, tearing her eyes off Jake.

Jenny tilted her head, and then made a satisfied smile. "I like that name." And in an instant, she was off back towards her sandbox doing whatever little kids these days liked to play.

"She likes you," Jake laughed gently. "You were one of the few to keep her attention for longer than 5 seconds."

Peyton didn't respond. He was laughing. Laughing! Did he not get that she was absolutely pissed at him? Did he not understand that he could not just treat her out to the most romantic moment of her life, and then regret ever doing it, then spring up he had a daughter and act like everything's okay?

He was still smiling at her!

Jake obviously didn't get that, then.

She began to turn around exasperated towards the inside of the house, adding, "Listen, I'll see you around." From the corner of her vision, she could still feel his eyes on her.

Peyton was really pissed now.

"What?" He just kept staring. "What?!" She was annoyed now. Why was he staring at her like that? Damn it! He was reading her wasn't he? He could always tell when something was wrong with her. Sometimes it's just so –

Suddenly, in one quick movement, he grabbed her face gently with ease and managed to plant on her lips the softest and most innocent kiss she had ever received in her short lifetime. In that moment, the night at the gazebo was nothing compared to her first sweet kiss to Jake Jagielski under the blanket of twinkling stars with a giggling little girl watching them from her comfy sandbox.

Peyton wasn't so pissed anymore.

**A/N: Did you guys like it? Review please! I really like to hear your opinions on your what the best and worst parts are so I can make the next chapter more to your liking. :) Thanks for reading, and Brooke is up next! **


End file.
